


Past the City

by Verasteine



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M, relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-29
Updated: 2009-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-07 09:52:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Verasteine/pseuds/Verasteine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Ianto stands still for a moment, wrapping his mind around this, around this life.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Past the City

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://madtheo.livejournal.com/profile)[**madtheo**](http://madtheo.livejournal.com/), for the beta and the read-through, and [](http://smirnoffmule.livejournal.com/profile)[**smirnoffmule**](http://smirnoffmule.livejournal.com/), for the betas. This was originally written for [](http://community.livejournal.com/consci_fan_mo/profile)[**consci_fan_mo**](http://community.livejournal.com/consci_fan_mo/), back in December. I wasn't happy with it then, and shelved it instead of posting it, until I picked it up again a few weeks ago and found where it was supposed to go. An extra thank you, therefore, to the betas who were both willing to revisit this after so long!

> _Drown with me  
> Past the city, down to sea  
> Rush of dream  
> Leave in peace, let me be_

Ianto gasps, whimpers slightly, and tries to stifle it. Jack lifts his head from Ianto's chest, reaches out. Fingers brush his hair. "You're thinking."

Jack can be economic with words when he wants to be.

They're still half dressed, and already Ianto's trembling. Jack senses his tremble, he must have, but he is undeterred. And why wouldn't he be, when it's quiet in Cardiff, the team is long gone to their homes, and the place Ianto could go to he does not call home any more?

Ianto finds it's hard to avoid the platitudes. "I--" he stutters, because knowing what not to say doesn't afford him an answer.

"We don't have to do this," Jack says, and Ianto reads the words for what they are. _I'm not kicking you out, I don't need sex to want you to be here._

"I'm not objecting, Jack," he replies, trying to soften his voice. He appreciates, but doesn't need, Jack's concern. He doesn't lack confidence when it comes to his place in Jack's life.

"Good," is the answer. Jack ducks his head, licks in one long swipe across Ianto's chest to his neck. Ianto shudders, trembles again, fights his body.

Jack reaches out, fingers curling around Ianto's hand as if Jack's seeking assurance. Ianto squeezes them, but gets no response. He threads other fingers into Jack's hair, and feels Jack slide lower. He doesn't object.

Jack's mouth is on him -- hot fire and spring rain -- and Ianto throws his head back. This is what they both need, connection and intimacy, and he feels his body begin to thrum with his building orgasm as Jack works. The release is relief and emptiness rolled into one, and he frowns.

Jack slides up his body to lean his arms on both sides of Ianto's head. Ducks down and says, a mere inch from Ianto's face with features blurred out of focus, "I want you."

Economics, Ianto thinks again, and remembers a secondary school teacher with prematurely grey hair and a dry voice that would send Ianto to sleep on a sunny afternoon. Jack's breath is warm on his face and reminds him of the breeze from the classroom window. It stops abruptly when Jack shifts.

Anatomy, biology, he thought he knew the theory, then he met Jack Harkness. Or rather, bedded him. He reaches out and pulls Jack down for a kiss -- because he can -- and Jack kisses back, shifts, _rubs_, and Ianto is not so subtly reminded.

"Sorry," he offers, because he's that sort of a man, too, and Jack laughs, low, a sound Ianto could listen to all day because it makes him smile.

"You're the most polite man I've had in my bed for a long while, Ianto."

Ianto laughs, too, and slides a hand down Jack's chest, across his stomach, wraps a hand around Jack's length. It takes the chuckle out of Jack's voice as he speaks next.

"Always says _thank you_ and _I'm sorry_, and my personal fa--" Jack stutters briefly "--favourite, _I aim to please_." Jack's eyes lose focus for a moment. Ianto rolls his own as Jack continues, "Always ready to put his fingers on the s-sore spot, rectify a prob-- problem-- yeah."

Ianto smiles widely now, Cheshire cat like, and at a twist of his wrist Jack comes hard, collapsing on top of him.

They lay silently for a moment, Jack resting his head on Ianto's chest.

Then Jack comes out with, "I would say, _what's eating you_, but the joke in there's just tired."

"Like you?" Ianto says, a little weary himself, and cards his fingers through Jack's hair, mindfully.

Jack scoffs. "Ah, Ianto..."

There's a wistful tone to Jack's voice, and Ianto does not speak.

"We're both tired, I think," Jack says, and whatever they would have talked about, the moment's past.

"Long day," Ianto replies, and thinks he's not avoided the platitudes after all.

Jack lifts his head and pushes up on his elbows again. "I know," he says suddenly, and looks straight at Ianto. "I do know, and it's okay."

Ianto frowns.

"Can you live with just this?" Jack gestures between their bodies. "Because I can, but I know some people can't, and if you can't, you need to tell me. I'm fond of you."

Ianto trembles again when Jack lifts a hand and runs a thumb over his mouth. "I can," Ianto says against the digit. "I can live with what I cannot have, because I have what I need."

Jack thinks that through, smiles, and kisses Ianto gently. "You speak in riddles, but I hear you."

"Look who's talking," Ianto jokes weakly. He breaks eye contact by staring at the ceiling again and runs a hand through his own hair. "I really am tired, Jack."

"I know, I keep you up too late."

"I'm right here," Ianto retorts, feeling a pinch of guilt, then belies his words by sitting up and dislodging Jack. He gets up, then looks back at where Jack is curled up on the bed with a gorgeous, lazy smile on his face. Jack makes a sound -- a purr, maybe -- stretches, and sits up as well. "Shower," he announces, as if he's come up with the concept.

Ianto stands still for a moment, wrapping his mind around this, around this life. Jack pauses in the doorway to his bathroom and raises one eyebrow. Ianto gives him a nod. There's no point being fanciful. He follows Jack into the bathroom.

In passing, Jack turns and wraps a hand around the back of Ianto's neck and kisses him thoroughly. Fire shoots up Ianto's spine, down to his toes, and he trembles with the warmth of it. Jack pulls back but keeps his hand in place. "I wish I could trust you to be honest with me."

It hurts, but that doesn't make Jack wrong. Ianto sighs, looking down at their toes on the bathroom floor, and says finally, "Can you let me have my regrets, Jack? Without trying to fix them for me?"

Jack hooks a thumb under Ianto's chin and forces him to look up. "Can't I?"

"No," Ianto replies, weary.

Jack blinks and holds his eyes for a moment. "I'm sorry," he says with a heavy voice. "This--" He makes the same gesture between them as earlier. "Us... There is an us, isn't there?"

Ianto raises an eyebrow. "I was thinking there was."

"Sorry," Jack says again, to Ianto's annoyance. He looks at Ianto from under his fringe. "Is it Lisa?"

"No," Ianto responds. "Maybe the idea of Lisa." He swallows past the sudden lump in his throat, and feels Jack's thumb rub softly over his skin. "It's Torchwood, maybe."

Jack stills. "Yes." He bites his lower lip. "Okay. I can see that."

"Jack," Ianto says, half in exasperation, half with fondness. "That doesn't mean I want to change anything. That's what I meant. You need to let me have my regrets, without trying to fix them."

Jack nods, quietly. The confident lover of earlier is replaced by a lost man, and Ianto's heart aches.

"Just because 'normal' is an adjective you can't apply to my life," Ianto continues, "doesn't mean I don't want what I have."

"I would let you have it, if I could," Jack says.

Ianto draws breath to respond, and then suddenly lets it out. "Jack. Stop. You're driving yourself mad."

Blue eyes blink at him and Ianto soothes him in a language Jack understands. After the soft kiss, Jack says, "I'm used to walking away from people."

"I know you are." Ianto reaches out to brush Jack's fringe off his forehead. "Now respect me enough to let me make my own decisions."

Jack nods. "Will you be honest with me?" he asks.

Something in Ianto clamps down, and he struggles to find a reply. He feels Jack pull away from him. "Yes," he forces out to bring him back.

Jack stops pulling away and looks at him. "Ah, Ianto," he whispers softly, fingers gently stroking Ianto's skin. "I wish I could see inside your mind some days."

"Yes," Ianto replies over the terror that idea fills him with. When Jack pulls him close again, he swallows past his fear. "I don't want normal," he confesses against Jack's skin. "Because I wouldn't have you."

\--   
_finis_.


End file.
